


The Moon In Old Times

by hesonlytiny



Category: MY FIRST STORY (Band), coldrain (Japan Band)
Genre: "canon" as in: both musicians, Begging, Blow Jobs, Chance Meetings, Edo Period, Fate, Fingerfucking, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, MENTIONING OF SUICIDE pls be aware, Onsen, a LOT of references, a bit modern a bit edo lol, first gay encounter, little brat!Hiroki lol, thoughts of domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23651323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesonlytiny/pseuds/hesonlytiny
Summary: An onsen in the middle of nowhere, weird dreams of long forgotten times and oddly familiar memorial sites. Masato couldn't pinpoint the moment he thought he'd lost it. Maybe it had nothing to do with himself and everything to do with the appearance of this little brat from Tokyo who might or might not be shamelessly flirting with him.
Relationships: Masato (coldrain)/Moriuchi Hiroki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Moon In Old Times

**Author's Note:**

> Hi >3 I’m back! Have more MasaHiro goodness this time! Not much to say but the usual disclaimer: Not a native speaker! Please do give constructive criticism, I appreciate it! Also: kind of weird topic, I know. I’m also not an expert on all things Edo, unfortunately. So I hope you don’t mind tiny errors or anything that doesn’t make so much sense after all. 
> 
> (We’re gonna ignore non-album-releases and COVID-19 here, guys!)
> 
> Have fun and I hope you're save! :)

It had been hard – but not impossible – to find a nice traditional _onsen_ that allowed tattoos. Obviously, that aspect had to have been one of my first concerns. I still had a spacious room with a private _onsen_ here; however, I did enjoy using the public one first thing in the morning. When it was still freezing and dark outside. And considering how atmospheric the illuminated landscape melted into the steam rising up from the water … it was honestly a soul-healing experience. Cleansing, almost. I needed that, at least once a year.

It was on the dot 6am, maybe five minutes later. I had difficulties getting up early when on tour or during stressful weeks in general, but no such feelings when I was on vacation. I lay there, completely absorbed in my thoughts and the tingling sensation of the contrast between hot water and cool morning air; I’d almost missed the hesitant footsteps of someone with the same intentions I’d had.

When he entered the water, however, I realised I’d been lost in thought. I didn’t look. It just meant that my alone-time had already drawn to a close. You really shouldn’t stare when someone was about to enter the _onsen_ , anyway.

A few minutes passed in silence as I concentrated further on the hazy, blurred surroundings and the pleasant feeling; but then the guy a couple of metres next to me raised his high voice with a clearing of his throat.

“Masato? Is that you?”

I couldn’t quite recall the voice though, so I turned my head in fear of seeing a full-on stranger sitting next to me; a fan. That was honestly the last thing I would have wanted right this second. I probably would have needed to change the _ryokan_ , too. But no, sitting next to me, even if still awfully unexpected, was Moriuchi Hiroki; frontman of MY FIRST STORY and brother of one of my best friends.

That was … a coincidence.

“Oh, hey!” I spat out somewhat perplexed, seeing that I not exactly knew what else to say. Even though sitting naked inside an _onsen_ with strangers and friends was part of the Japanese heritage – something as normal as it could get – here right now it remained kind of awkward. We were still the only ones here this morning and I knew him, but I didn’t really _know_ him. Their band belonged to a different kind of generation of rock bands here in Japan. We briefly met on festivals, if we were lucky, but most of the time not even that. He wasn’t on very good terms with his brother, last time I checked, and Taka and I were good friends. That was it.

“That’s so funny that you’re here, too!” He grinned, or as far as I could make that out through the foggy night air. “Just on vacation?”

“Yeah,” I answered, still slightly taken aback by this new situation, “a few days. Just trying to relax a bit.”

“Me too,” Hiroki mused and nodded gently as if he had something on his mind but I didn’t say. I had actually just planned on remaining as silent as I could possibly manage during this holiday. Protect and heal my voice and just sweat out all this pent-up tension from all this unnecessary social interaction. I shook my head inwardly.

“So … I heard you just released a new album?” I asked only in order to have anything to say. It was release season after all, I thought I might have heard something along those lines, but honestly I just tried a shot in the dark. Next to me, however, he began nodding his head slowly.

“Been quite the year. I also needed a break.”

“I see …”

After that we fell kind of silent, though I talked myself into believing that it was because we enjoyed the relaxing warmth and silence, not because we were awkward as fuck. A few other men had joined us after a while, mostly elderly who honestly wouldn’t recognise any of us anyway. As it was time to go up again to get ready for the day, we briefly said our short goodbyes and I was sure I could feel his stares in my back when I left. But maybe I was just being paranoid.

*******

I had started my day off slowly but breakfast went by pretty fast. And as I was launching in my room, clothed in a _yukata_ , I noticed a curious pattern on the furniture and the wall cupboards. They weren’t just made out of smooth brown wood, as it was common for the interior of these old inns. There were delicate little flowers carved inside most of the surfaces. Nothing special to the fleeting eye of course, this _ryokan_ was just a tad fancier than others, it would seem. Those, however, were lotus flowers. Significant in Buddhism and a lot of Asian countries in general. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, were they not spread throughout the whole room. I just wondered if there was a deeper meaning than just ‘it looks fancy’ to this. But I’d also seen a few here and there in the lobby and dining room.

I shrugged, and having finished my green tea, I lazily got up. I wasn’t in the mood to read and there was still so much time left until lunch, so I decided to take a quick stroll through the little village.

Breathing in the fresh air of the still early day, I walked alongside the river. A small amount of rosy plum petals drifted with the stream downwards. It was a nice enough day, a bit cloudy and the cold wind cutting. There were few tourists in the streets, less than I’d expected, albeit it being such a picturesque little _onsen_ village. Right out of picture-book-Edo. Lots of tiny shops, bathhouses and restaurants on each side of the river.

Lost in thought, I let my fingers trace the wooden handrail in the middle of the street that separated the sidewalk and the river. It made me realise how badly I’d needed this time off. No phone. No appointments. No one other than me and my thoughts.

And yet … here I was thinking about the brief encounter between Moriuchi Hiroki and me this morning. What a God damn coincidence. Something out of a screenplay, right? How was it possible that two people in the same business who knew each other ended up at the same place and at the same time? Ryo would probably laugh about this; endlessly amused. He was the one who actually kind of got along with Hiroki and his band, no matter the age gap. I knew that the guy looked up to us as musicians. Maybe even as much as he looked up to his brother and his band. We were almost on the same level after all. We’d both did Budokan. We’d both toured the world. We were friends. If Hiroki were to strive to be like someone, I wouldn’t be surprised if it would be us.

I’d been so absorbed by my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed the little shrine at the end of the path that had slowly but steadily come into sight. It was a cosy, little thing. Overgrown with soft looking green moss here and there. It basically completed the picture of this fascinating Edo-looking village.

I bowed subtly before I entered through the _torii_ on the left hand side. I hadn’t expected to visit a shrine on this trip; I wasn’t even particularly religious or fond of traditions. Sure, I did visit the local shrine on New Year’s day. But that was about it. Something inside of me, however small, told me to stay. I suddenly felt a warm feeling of understanding and calmness reach my chest. I just laid the blame on the fact that I’d felt so relaxed coming here in the first place. That feeling had to have come from that, right?

There weren’t even any tourists or local people on the shrine grounds. And even though I wondered why that was, I decided that I liked this situation a lot better than otherwise and opted to ignore it. Coming from a big city, it was so rare to see anything like that.

I went through the motions of washing my hands and mouth at the little well, cleanse my body with the incense and then went to pray. Something you internalised as a Japanese person. Even though I hadn’t known what to pray for beforehand, all of a sudden I knew exactly what to ask.

When I turned around, I noticed a statue made out of stone in front of a small pond. Even though not very delicately sculptured, you could make out the silhouette of what appeared to be a couple in each other’s arms. Nowhere were foxes or _komainu_ to be seen. That was odd.

“I take it you are not from here?”

I was taken wholly by surprise that when I turned around, an old man was standing right next to me. I laughed, feeling caught, and shook my head. When the heck had _he_ appeared out of nowhere?

“No, I’m not from here.”

“You are wondering about the memorial, do you not?”

I took a closer look at the guy. He was clad in everyday clothes and his thinned out white hair reached the tip of his ears. He glanced piercingly in my direction with his bushy eyebrows raised. One of these stares that you couldn’t resist answering, though he honestly didn’t come across unfriendly. So I nodded.

“It is said to be Kozaemon and his courtesan Tsuka. They committed love suicide a long time ago.”

I side-eyed the old man and watched him fold his hands behind his back. I of course knew a little about all this; about life back then, about the ranks and samurai and _yūjo_. About Bunraku and Kabuki and the usage of popular real-life occurrences that had found their way into premodern art forms. Double-suicide being one of the most popular among those. The most romantic. I’d just never seen a memorial like this before. Didn’t know there were any.

“It is, however, also said that an error occurred while passing on information and Tsuka was actually Tsukichi. That is all I know. A beautiful statue, is it not?”

I nodded slowly and gave an awkward sound of understanding and gratitude. The old man took it, nodded himself and calmly shuffled away. If that was the truth, no wonder modern Japan decided to conceal it. Love-suicides used to be common and relationships between men no secret. Though I’d never heard of an instance of a homosexual double-suicide before this.

*******

Since I wasn’t in the mood to actually sit down and eat at the _ryokan_ , I decided to drop by some small diner and eat out instead. Though when I returned to the lobby, I saw Hiroki sitting in the far corner of the room, reading a magazine. He hadn’t noticed me yet and for one short moment I thought about ignoring him and just returning to my room. But as I examined him there reading alone, I felt like this was a way too coincidental situation to let it pass by. To be nice, even if I didn’t feel like it.

“Hey, what are you up to?”

Hiroki lifted his gaze and instantly cleared up the moment he saw me; a subtle smile playing on his lips. I told myself that it was just because he’d been feeling kind of dull and hadn’t expected to see me again so soon.

“I’ve just been reading,” he swiftly showed me the magazine in a fleeting motion, something about music … or art … or fashion. I couldn’t really tell before he again put his hands on the cover. “You look positively relaxed, though!”

“I’ve been walking around the neighbourhood and picked up some food. I guess I’m fine.”

I nodded gradually to back up my statement as if Hiroki needed to be reassured that I was telling the truth. As I realised how stupid that was, I stopped. Shifted from one foot to the other. I wasn’t nervous. It was just awkward …

Just as I was about to take my leave, because him casually sitting in front of me throughout our conversation mildly irked me, he stood up. I was a fair bit taller than he was but Hiroki didn’t seem as though he was bothered by it in any way. His bright smile caught me somewhat off-guard.

“I bought this expensive sake yesterday that I actually wanted to bring home. But if you’re free tonight, I could bring some over,” he suddenly explained with a straight face. He looked as if he’d only just had this sudden revelation, though something told me that he’d kind of planned on doing just that. I honestly wasn’t really fond at the prospect of him robbing me of my night time ritual – if you could call it that – but he seemed so excited that I couldn’t bring myself to say no. So I reluctantly agreed.

And finally at night, there we were, sitting at this round coffee table on the tatami floor, in our _yukata_ and drinking sake; probably looking like a curious wall painting from the Edo period. This was the theme throughout after all. Our hair styles didn’t quite fit in, though.

I watched as he sat there, one half of his _yukata_ very nearly sliding off his shoulder. Soft looking, tanned skin peeking out from underneath it. The grey of the garment looked honestly good on him, I had to admit.

“You’d make one hell of an entertainer. That _yukata_ suits you,” I heard myself blurting out without properly thinking it through first. The alcohol had already sunken deep into my bloodstream and had tinged my cheeks a hot pink. Or at least that was what it felt like. Totally forgetting that, in a sense, he already was an entertainer.

In front of me, Hiroki chuckled and again nipped on his drink. He had this habit of covering his mouth with the back of his hand when he laughed. It made him seem _soft_ somehow. He also seemed to be at least as intoxicated as I felt, though probably quite a bit more, to be frank. Right this moment I was just relieved that he wasn’t weirded out by my admittedly kind of creepy comment. His brown hair was tugged behind his ears, revealing his slightly puffy and likewise reddish cheeks. The tip of his nose sheen healthy in the warm toned light. I could not seem to turn away from those two delicate moles straight underneath his right eye. There was just something about him that I couldn’t explain.

“Did you just call me a prostitute?”

Wha–? I knew he didn’t mean it, he was joking; bantering. There was still this drunken challenging smile on his lips, but his fidgety hands on the table told a different story. I hadn’t intended to make him uncomfortable. But now that he said it, it could indeed have been perceived like that …

“No,” I tried to reconcile, albeit probably sounding desperate. Here was to hoping that he wouldn’t realise in his current state. “But did you know that prostitutes did in fact enjoy quite a high rank back in the day? The good ones, that is …”

Again, he chuckled. “Every child knows that … But you did call me ‘one hell of a,’ right?”

“Okay, this is getting weird, I’m sorry,” I laughed nasally because I was trying to hide half of my face somewhere behind my upper arm. Taking another sip. Feeling the stinging liquid run desperately hot down my throat. This wasn’t how I’d imagined this going. We weren’t even that close. Why couldn’t we, for the love of the Gods, keep up a normal conversation like actual adults?

“I’m just messing with you, you know?” Something in his brown eyes glistened when he looked at me. Maybe it was just the light reflected in them, or maybe he just really enjoyed being a tedious little brat. “Didn’t think it’d be so easy with you.”

I clicked my tongue, shook my head and downed the rest of the liquid from my glass. Should have known, really. He wasn’t annoying, however, for some reason I felt myself liking the way our interaction went. It was a fine line between annoyance and pleasure, though.

“I think you had one too much to drink,” I lectured him with a raised eyebrow; not looking at him. I took the result of my earlier statement as proof that I should probably refrain from handing out compliments like White Day chocolate. He did look good, but this time I held back my opinion; swallowed it down again. No idea why I’d had this thought in the first place.

Hiroki, however, only smiled at me with an odd expression as he picked up the bottle of sake again and poured us another two; almost triumphantly, not saying a word. I sighed.

“Hiroki … I honestly don’t want to fade away in the _onsen_ tomorrow morning with a hangover …” It was a white lie, I wouldn’t be hungover tomorrow. I just genuinely thought that we’d better stop right here …

“I’m just trying to be a good _yūjo_ ,” he shrugged, his plump lips still forming a slight smile. Innocence. Feigned innocence.

Again, I sighed. “Don’t you think you’d much rather make a better _wakashū_?” I didn’t quite want to enable this weird conversation any further, but it seemed like we were at a point of no return here. Now I wanted to at least look at this logically.

In front of me, Hiro nodded approvingly. Actually a bit too enthusiastically for my tastes, too.

“You’re right. But I’d be a bit too old for that, don’t you think?”

“Let’s not go there …” I shook my head. I really didn’t want to imagine Hiroki as a barely teenage Kabuki actor, occasionally pleasuring old men in his free time. I scrunched up my face and was about to consider whether I should cut it right off here; tell him I’m sleepy, suggest that we should maybe go to bed. I was starting to feel uncomfortable under his glances and cheeky remarks. And I wasn’t about to ask myself why that was just yet.

“Okay, I’ll stop,” he breathed, this time a tad softer. His fingers played with the glass on the table and a strand of hair was now loose behind his ear and fell into his face.

I was older than him, obviously. Seven years, to be exact. I’d asked. He looked young, too. Maybe a conversation like this was totally normal among his group of friends.

“But it’s still okay to tell you that your natural hair colour suits you, right? That’s not going too far, is it?”

Again, I stared at him a bit dumbfounded before I regained my composure. Slowly, I took another sip, felt the liquid run down my throat. Swallowed and almost had to cough because I’d chocked on it. My ears felt warm. “I guess that’s okay. I’ve complimented you first. We’re even.”

My words came out curiously broken; with a low and careful voice. I’d grow out my natural dark brown hair during off time. I liked the occasional change and also to give my hair a breather between tours. It had been a while, however, since someone had complimented me on that. Weird that I just wasn’t able to pocket it like a normal compliment from an acquaintance. Suddenly it became hard to look him in the eye.

“Maybe we should–” I started to intervene, but he nodded midway, agreeing to my unfinished suggestion in a whisper.

“We should,” he said.

As we both nodded and reached for the little glasses simultaneously, our hands faintly touched and we instinctively flinched; like a god damn film cliché. It was like a little electro shock, like a spark, I felt the hair on the nape of my neck stand up. And then, as I looked at him, for a split second I could swear Hiroki didn’t look like Hiroki anymore. In this short moment, I was sure to have seen what looked like an older version of him. Not as in ‘aged,’ but as in ‘not exactly now’. All the colours were sepia toned and blurred and before I could inspect his hair style any further, the weird feeling was gone and I snapped out of it.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly; his facial features only now starting to make sense to my brain again, slowly blending together. I shook my head confused to let go of that state but then nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Forget it. I should really go to bed.”

*******

I was leaning against the chunky trunk of a big plum tree. It appeared to be spring, everything was deeply in bloom and blossom, pinks and whites and yellows and greens all around, but the rays of the sun felt already intensely warm on my skin. I peeped up to the baby blue morning sky and smiled on account of it. What bliss!

“Your skin looks golden in the sun,” the boy in front of me asserted out loud; cupping my face lovingly with his two hands. I looked at him and even though I felt like scolding him, still I smiled.

Next he took the tiny used notebook and very short pencil from my hands and placed them next to us. I let him do it without objecting, even though I knew that he shouldn’t have the power to bother me at a time like this. I combed through his loose raven black forelocks.

“Take me with you tonight.”

“You very well know I cannot do that.”

“Your wife does not even need to know.”

“Look at me,” I heard my own voice ring in my ears as I looked at him intently; his face both soft and hopeless at the same time. The freshness of his pink cheeks well-neigh touched me to tears. “There is going to be a time and a place for everything yet to come.”

“I am afraid I cannot wait any longer,” he cried tenderly but his eyes were screaming. I could not seem to turn away from those two delicate moles straight underneath his right eye. They made him seem mesmerizingly beautiful. This time, I cupped his face. “I am tired. I love you.”

“And I love _you_ ,” I reassured him, “but this is not how the world works.”

“I cut myself for you.”

With deliberate and careful fingertips, I caressed the long, thick scar on his shoulder through the garment from that blade that day. It had only just closed up and healed recently.

“I mean it.”

“We will find a way, I promise you,” I whispered those words onto his trembling lips. Kissed a salty tear away. Knew that, in the end, this would only mean one thing.

“Born together on the same lotus flower.”

When the day of his _genpuku_ ceremony came, and it was his time to cut off his forelocks, he lay in my arms; sobbing. I held him close and brushed through his hair patiently. Kissed his head.

He had tried to postpone it as long as he could but ultimately there was no young man who could escape it. You were supposed to embrace it, naturally. What an opportunity, an honour! To be able to fight in open battle as samurai and to finally be considered an adult! But for the _wakashū_ youth at the time, it was bound to be a disaster.

“Will you still love me after that?”  
  
“I told you, I will.”

“Promise me.”

“I would gladly give my life for you,” I whispered into his black hair and meant it. “You will find a way, too, you will see. The _wakashū-kabuki_ is about to change. I know it.”

And when it was finally time for us to be reborn, the winter had taken hold of the land. The icy cold gusts of wind cut our cheeks but we determinedly marched forward to the perfect spot encompassed by those large, naked plum trees and the little shrine. I had taken care of my wife’s financial well-being as best as I could have managed. I felt guilty but also indescribably happy at the prospect of finally being free with him. Together with him. Like it always should have been.

When I leant down to cut his throat, I kissed him intently and whispered “same lotus, remember” against his lips. It was both the hardest and the easiest thing I’d ever had to do. Then I hung myself.

And as I hung there, swaying in the wind, the full moon shining on me, I–

*******

My alarm went off. Horror-stricken, I came to and suddenly I sat upright in my futon; clutching my throat and desperately trying to gasp for air. Until I realised I didn’t need to. There was fresh sweat on my forehead that I wiped away before I got up to drink some water.

What a freakish nightmare.

I’d never before dreamed of dying. Let alone anything Tokugawa period inspired. I didn’t even know I’d had the _knowledge_. But it had all felt too real, looked so real. The more I tried to hold onto the blurred memories, however, the more they slipped away. I shook my head. With all of yesterday’s _wakashū_ talk and the little lecture at the memorial site, this was bound to happen, right? Right …

I sleepily rubbed my eyes and looked outside. Still dark, of course. I hadn’t been as sleepy yesterday …

After I’d had a cup of tea, I made my way downstairs to the _onsen_. Wondered if Hiroki would appear at the same time as yesterday. I waited in the mushy warmth and people came and went, but he never appeared.

Slightly feeling defeated, I let the back of my head fell softly on the wet stones behind me and sighed. I couldn’t put my finger on why I felt so bad. Maybe I’d scared him away yesterday after all; had made him feel unwelcomed. That hadn’t been my intention as his _senpai_ at all.

But then, what did I want?

Finally, at breakfast, I saw him sitting at the large table and joined him hesitantly. He really didn’t seem too pleased. But maybe I’d only imagined it.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

Hiroki spooned his miso soup; his face stiff. “So-so. Could have been better, honestly.”

My fingertips itched to ask him why he didn’t come to the public _onsen_ this morning. He’d probably just used his own private one, but then again, why today …

“Yeah, me neither,” I mused; body refreshed, mind sleepy. “I hope I didn’t offend you yesterday.”

It was honestly a thought that had been circling around in my head all morning since I’d woken up from that weird dream. Objectively I knew that I hadn’t offended him and if I had, it wasn’t my fault. Just … seeing him looking so miserable, for whatever reason, felt like choking. Trying to be as silent as I could manage, I grabbed everything I needed for my breakfast and started to eat.

“You did not,” he reassured me and there was honesty in his voice, though his eyes remained a question without an answer. “I honestly think that I was acting like a little brat on purpose and I should apologise for that.”

“So, do you only think you should or are you apologising?”

When I lifted my gaze to look at him, for a moment, I thought he’d throw his tofu at me. But to my huge relief, he smiled, beamed even, and so I chimed in for a bit. When the pleasant feelings had settled after a while, I again tried to focus on the food. Suddenly it tasted a lot better.

“I’ll be honest with you,” I started after a few minutes in pleasant silence, not quite knowing whether I should really tell him, “actually I wanted to spend this vacation alone. You know, not even seeing or talking to anyone. But now that you’re here, too … how about going around town for a bit later?”

Hiroki nodded, not too enthusiastically but I liked to think he was. “That sounds great. Check out the restaurants?”

I nodded. There were a lot I hadn’t yet seen.

*******

It was long dark outside when we exited the restaurant we’d had dinner at. Both clothed in grey kimono, and already slightly intoxicated from all the sake we’d had after food, we walked along the dimly lit river.

It was astoundingly beautiful here. It very well-neigh looked as though you were literally in old Edo, only the street lights meddled with the illusion. It was a clear night with a clear night’s sky and although still quite cold, there was no wind cutting our faces. Everything was dark and still and silent and _listened_.

We hadn’t said a word since we’d started walking alongside this little river called Heiki in a daze of alcohol and mild food overdose. Which was, for the record, slightly out of character for the both of us considering that we’d happily chatted away during our meal and it made me fuzzy in the head. We’d had a lot of fun together tonight.

After we’d walked for a while, our _ryokan_ wasn’t too far anymore, Hiroki suddenly stopped to lean onto the wooden handrail at the side of the street and listen to the polite rhythm of the gurgling water. On the other river side, the plum trees were already in full bloom.

“Why we’re stopping?” I asked oblivious and watched him watching the scenery in front of us. There was a short smile on his lips. We were still drunk.

“It’s just so pretty here. I’ve spent enough time indoors.”

I nodded. Although I silently dreamed of using the _onsen_ for a second time today. “It’s cold after a while, though, don’t you think?”

Hesitatingly, I shuffled to a spot next to him; the fabric of our kimono almost touching.

“I can handle the cold,” he mused but I knew he wasn’t finished. So I didn’t say anything after that. Then he looked up and so did I. Out here, you could actually _see_ the stars. Sometimes you get the feeling that they’re not quite there in the city, as though someone had imagined them a long time ago and so they only then came into existence. You never really think about them, you never really _see_ them, because even though you might sometimes look up from your hectic walk, they are not really there. You look up and they’re not there. You know they should be and you know everyone says they’re there, so you believe them.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

I watched the not quite full moon closely, silently, and wondered if Hiroki knew what he’d just said. What a walking cliché … After another few seconds had passed, however, I decided to blame the alcohol for that as well.

“It is,” I said warily and got ready to start walking again, “but let’s just go inside. Have something to drink. I just want to get into the hot water one more time before I go to bed.”

“That does sound good,” he agreed enthusiastically as he walked right by my side. I could see his breath forming little clouds of white mist in the light of the street lamps whenever I peered over to him. And while I was at it, I forbid my head from overthinking his statement from earlier. He hadn’t meant it like that … “How about we go to my place? I have a private _onsen_.”

“Don’t you think I have one, too? You’ve been to my room.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his cheeks sporting a soft glowing pink. He was giddy, always in such high spirits, it was fascinating. “But does yours overlook the forest?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve booked the most expensive room?”

“What can I say?” Hiroki looked at me and laughed a hearty smile, showing me his wrist and attached to it: a rather expensive looking watch. “Rich parents and successful, too. Why would I settle for the _almost_?”

“Wow, you’re … unbelievable.”

What a fucking brat. He’d been like this from the start, as if he never cared how he came across. Maybe he really didn’t. Some people’d understandably think of him as obnoxious. But I knew he was kind and thoughtful. Honest even. That’s why he didn’t bother to change his cheeky ways. He knew he could trust me.

And he had been right indeed – his room looked full-on fancy; sort of extravagant even and the view over the forest was breathtakingly gorgeous. I hadn’t been aware that there were such major differences between the rooms. His little private _onsen_ was built on what appeared to be a balcony of some sort – there weren’t any walls or glass façades surrounding the hot bath. It was wonderful, really, so you’d still be sitting outside and the hot steam wouldn’t fill the cramped little room. Now I knew why he’d stayed inside this morning. And, ironically enough, there was the moon right outside this room, hanging over the _onsen_ like an exclamation point with the stroke of its upper body missing.

“I’ve got some beer. Tell you what, I’m going to get it and you go and get yourself ready?”

“That’s _decadent_ ,” I intervened slightly puzzled, though Hiroki’s face only revealed what seemed to be one of his ‘what do you mean?’-looks. As if that was the most common thing on this planet. So in the end I shrugged my shoulders and obliged, wondering when our roles had switched exactly. The fact that I was still intoxicated, however, helped this case enormously.

I’d been with friends to the hot springs a hundred times. Even with his brother. But somehow … this time … alone in a private _onsen_ with him and alcohol involved … there was something feeling not quite right about this. I just couldn’t put my finger on why that was, though. And so I ignored the little voice inside my head as he sat opposite of me. The fact that I kind of initiated this mess in the first place Sipping his beer. The lights inside were dimmed, we only really had the moon illuminating our faces.

It looked kind of bizarre. I knew he was of drinking age, but he still looked so young holding this comparatively huge beer can in his hand. The way he sat there, silently, enjoying the warmth and sometimes looking up at the sky; questioningly. There was no way I could enjoy my bath like this. With all these ideas and thoughts running through my busy head. And him thoughtfully examining me once in a while when he thought I wasn’t looking.

“Is there something on my face?” I asked him without really expecting an answer to that.

The air around us had been electrified ever since we’d gone home from the restaurant. I should have known better and retired to my own room after we’d come here. I didn’t know what had made me stay.

“Do you think the moon looked the same for people in former times?”

I had to muffle a small laugh at that; I’d been expecting a lot but this knocked me off track. “Oh, it’s that time already? _Philosophy_?”

I couldn’t help myself but mock it. I busied my fingers with my own beer and hoped he would just drop the subject altogether. Something about it unnerved me to no end. No more talking about the bloody _moon_!

For a while then, he said nothing. Only when he saw my raised eyebrows did he open his mouth to respond. For some weird reason, I was anticipating exactly what he was about to say just then. God damn, I hadn’t actually wanted to trigger that.

“It’s just … I’ve had a weird dream last night.”

“Just a dream, though,” I assured him and freaked out on the inside. What a bizarre coincidence. Hopefully just that. Hopefully.

In front of me, Hiro nodded and finished his beer in one long gulp. He did make me nervous, I finally realised for the first time. His unspoken words especially; I could see them in his eyes. Now it was just awkward between the two of us. Both staring into nothingness and trying not to move. The water was suddenly too hot, it made my face glow up, and yet I could have sworn that I felt the subtle heat of his body instead. He was resting his arm outside of the _onsen_ on the elevated ground; his fingertips loosely pointing in my direction. My chest felt heavy. I didn’t know what to do.

“What made you come here in the first place?” I heard myself saying before I could even intervene consciously. But then I thought that it wasn’t such a bad idea to talk about that, after all. Normal enough conversation starter. Made both our minds busy. Would probably and finally stop me from wanting to move closer to him.

Hiro shrugged. “I felt like it. Searched for a place that allowed tattoos. This one felt right.”

“Right,” I whispered like in trance. Even though I had to have sobered up quite some bit already, my head felt so fuzzy. Trying to be subtle about it, I examined that part of his chest piece that was visible above the water surface. It said ‘Rule the Fate’ in elegant lettering and when I was done reading it, my hair on the nape of my neck stood on end. I realised that I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I knew he’d noticed. “Same for me.”

“You only have those two?” he whispered back in the same tone of voice, though only stared at the one on my neck. The Vena tattoo. “It’s your album title, isn’t it? What does it mean to you?”

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t quite make his eyes out in the dark, but his look was piercing. Not in an uncomfortable way, however, it managed to make me hot to the touch. My throat felt tight.

“We wanted to get back to our roots music wise,” I tried to give him the same TED talk I’d given basically any interviewer back then. And it wasn’t even that big of a lie. “So I thought roots … blood … veins … you get it.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he nodded, “but why’d you get a tattoo of that on your skin?”

“…Why’d you get yours?”

“I mean …” he paused, gesturing a bit comically. I again swallowed a lump in my throat. “You only have two. Those must mean something to you.”

“I just wanted to have someone on the cover with that tattoo. Thought it might as well be me.”

Hiroki only nodded as if he understood but in reality I knew he wasn’t convinced. Again, it wasn’t that big of a lie. I just didn’t feel fully comfortable talking about anything that personal. At least he accepted that. I watched him in front of me; tilting his head back to catch a nice cool breeze, his chest rising and falling softly. _Fate_. Then he lifted his gaze.

“Can I take a closer look at it?”

“What?” I responded instinctively and way too fast. I couldn’t quite tell him not to be ridiculous. I would have probably told him so yesterday. But tonight … I felt like I couldn’t refuse him such a simple request. He probably hadn’t gotten a good look at it in the past two days and he was just … curious. We were still slightly drunk. To ask such a thing was within the realms of possibility. It wasn’t weird. Or so I told myself. Because when I looked hard into it, when I tried to be honest with me … then I knew that all the fibres of my entire body wanted him closer. I wanted to say yes. I wanted him to look. The time of self-control was over, I’d just decided. No more self-control. He had it coming. I just couldn’t shake off that feeling of total helplessness; a feeling that this was all supposed to happen, right now and in the same exact way it was happening. “…yes.”

I held my breath as he carefully skidded closer to me in the _onsen_. It wasn’t big or anything, but the motion felt like minutes. Eventually, however, he was standing right in front of me; his stomach was almost at the same height as my face. I exhaled relieved when he decided to hunker down in front of me after all. My ears felt hot, again I held my breath. Prayed that I wasn’t coming across as nervous as my beating heart suggested.

This was it, wasn’t it? This was one of _those_ moments. I’d never been good at them. I was tense enough with women. But with a man? The whole realisation of it all, that it felt so right and that I knew my body wanted him so badly, made me lose my mind.

Sitting in front of me like that, Hiroki scooted just the tiniest bit closer; supporting himself with his right hand on the edge of the _onsen_ right next to my head as he leaned forward in slow motion. I felt his breath on my wet skin, making me shiver and flinched when the fingers of his left hand finally touched me; tracing the delicate strokes of black ink. I hadn’t expected him to, honestly. I’d thought he’d only _look_ , but now that he was here and I wasn’t quite surprised retrospectively, I leaned back and let out a small sigh that I’d held in consequently.

I imagined he was aware of where my body was and was fussily concerned with trying not to touch me in the water, though I could feel his thighs close to mine. My pulse throbbed so loud in my ears that I couldn’t understand my own voice inside my head anymore. All I heard was him breathing faster. I was so nervous and yet so giddy. Time moved so excruciatingly slow. I knew my impulses were about to kick in. I could feel it. My head felt so dizzy, my heart screamed. This ridiculous act was so painful. I knew he wanted me and I was sure he knew that I wanted him.

Two days. It had taken him two days to make me mad for him and his body. Laughable!

I was just about to go ‘fuck it’ and grab his head and just kiss him; I couldn’t take it any longer and my fingers itched for his skin, I couldn’t take the fact that I couldn’t just _touch_ him anymore – but then I felt his lips brush against my neck. Drawing in a breath sharply, I swallowed down a moan and was so perplexed that I suddenly didn’t know what to do after all. Then I just decided on placing my hand on his head, brushing through his soft hair bolder by the second, encouraging him to go on. His right hand now on my shoulder and upper arm, the other somewhere in the water.

This kid sure had balls. I chuckled amused but softly. Relieved.

“You’ve planned this?” I breathed under shivers. My heart was so full; I didn’t know what to do with all these giddy feelings. I hadn’t been this horny for someone in such a long time. How was I supposed to hold back until I could finally touch him properly, anyway? All of this was moving way too slow. I wanted to grab him and press him against the floor. I’d never done that to a guy. I wondered how he moved; how he moaned and how his face looked when he had my cock inside of him. I let out a shaky breath. Grabbed the back of his head and finally kissed him. Pressed him against me; our faces so close that it became almost impossible to move. The steam had made our hair and skin damp. His lips were wet.

I loved the little trembling breaths he took between kisses. I knew his lips felt soft but all I could think of was that tingling right underneath my skin, everywhere. Everywhere his body touched mine. His hands all over me and one of his legs somewhat awkward somewhere between my legs. His hips were touching my stomach. I could feel his hard-on and I knew he could feel my cock brush against him, too. He kissed back with such force; with at least as much desperation as I had in me. Even his fingertips where shaky. When I supported him by the hips and pressed him closer towards me, he sobbed against my lips; I opened my eyes. My hands still both cupping his face.

God, he was beautiful.

But as I was watching him in front of me, searching for his eyes in the dark but failing, there was this sudden realisation what we were about to do. Reluctantly I pressed our foreheads together. Clenched my teeth. Exhaled slowly. It felt right, yes, though this would most definitely not be perceived this way by … literally everyone we knew or who knew us.

“Hiroki … I think we should stop.”

I almost couldn’t recognise my own voice when I spoke; I was out of breath. I tried to search for his gaze one more time in the dimly lit darkness and recognised the coldness of his breath on my wet neck. He was still so close to my own face that it was hard to breathe. Our noses touched. I felt his chest heaving. I honestly didn’t want to let go of him. I couldn’t.

“You don’t want this to stop.” A whisper.

He was right. I smiled against his lips but didn’t kiss him. He let out a long sigh. I didn’t know how we’d ended up here. I didn’t even really want to occupy my mind with that question. I just wanted to follow whatever instinct was piloting me at this moment. It felt so right. Something inside of me told me that I really shouldn’t worry about such a minor thing. It would all fall into place. I just knew that I wanted to get off with him so badly. I wanted to see his face when he came. I wanted to know how he sounded like when he was close. And it did feel like a taboo, too, somehow. Something I’d never considered doing, something that fans would definitely never know about. And something his brother would _most definitely_ never learn.

God damn, I couldn’t stand it anymore. He was so right. No, I didn’t want to end this.

So I carefully got up and out, so as not to slip or hurt Hiroki accidentally in the process, and impatiently dried my body with a towel. It was freaking cold, but that wasn’t it, I was just desperate to get inside and begin where we left off. Still out of breath, I watched him climb out; biting my lips as my gaze fell on his hard cock. He looked a bit awkward standing there but I could not wait to touch him again. And so I took another careful breath and reached for his shoulder, wiped those single drops of water off as he was distractedly drying himself, too. His eyes on me the whole time. Gave him a small kiss before I began to hurry to get inside.

“Come on,” I encouraged him, took his hand and pulled him into the warmth. Didn’t care if he was still wet. Didn’t care if some of the curtains weren’t closed. Didn’t care about the far too dimmed lights.

I closed the door behind us and quickly pulled him into another kiss. Cupping his face, feeling the smooth skin on his back, pressing him against me as we stood there in the middle of the traditional looking _ryokan_ living room.

I felt far too hot, my ears hurt. And I knew my lips had to have been swollen by then. But I just couldn’t stop kissing him, catching his moans and little desperate breaths. It wasn’t like playing an instrument; Hiroki definitely knew what he was doing and what he wanted. He fought back, he pushed, he pulled. I would have loved to thrust him to the floor and to just lead this whole thing. See if he liked that. If he wanted that or had had in mind when he started hitting on me yesterday out of the blue. But instead Hiroki swiftly dropped to his knees without any time left for me to protest.

It must have been God damn uncomfortable on the tatami floor but seeing him like this, looking up at me with half-closed eyes – I wasn’t really gonna talk him out of it, let’s be honest. I brushed through his hair gently and was excited to see where this was going. No man had ever given me a blowjob but Hiroki looked as though he knew exactly what he’d had in mind, which aroused the question of if he’d done it before. I held my breath before his tongue touched me and shivered when it did.

He grabbed my waist and let his hands wander back and forth. I closed my eyes. Could not quite relax standing like this but the sensation was just so overwhelmingly perfect that I at the same time couldn’t care less. I just wanted more of that throbbing inside of my chest, to get all choked up. I didn’t even think I could bring out a single word at this point. My mouth stood open and all I could do was to breathe loudly as he had me in his mouth. My hands somewhere in his hair. I felt him grinning against my skin.

Jesus. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

“Hiroki,” I forced out with a broken voice then after all. I didn’t want to come just yet. But he was so _good_. My breathing grew faster and finally he stopped. Licked up my length once more before he stood up to face me again. He was still shorter than me, but his grin was so wide and smug that I was on the verge of holding him down and wanting to fuck it off him just like that. Instead I pulled him into yet another kiss; his tongue tasted faintly salty and bitter.

I let him press himself against my body as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and tickled my ear with his breath. Enjoyed the warmth his body gave off; all the angles, edges and muscles a woman didn’t have. Tried to capture and keep a hold of how he felt on my skin. Inhaled shakily.

“Are you brave enough to fuck me?” he whispered in my ear. I shivered. And mulled it over for a second. Brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. I couldn’t think properly, I was just so horny. I hadn’t had sex with a man before him. But I wasn’t _afraid_ , I wasn’t worried. All I wanted right now was him in front of me on all fours; on top of me, beneath me. Everything; I didn’t care. I just wanted to make him scream my name.

“I didn’t exactly think about bringing condoms, you know.” That had been pretty low on my priority list when I came here, to be quite honest. Who would have thought, anyway?

I let my fingertips run up and down his flat chest, felt the pulse on his throat; nose to nose, lips to lips. My hands now on the nape of his neck. Breathing in his sighs. On the verge of telling myself ‘fuck it’ – only that I knew better.

“I don’t have any, either,” he whispered against my lips. I kissed his.

“I was afraid you might say that …” I chuckled almost silently; still pressing myself against him. The desire I felt for him was immeasurable at this point. How could a stupid little kid do that to me? I tried pushing the fact of him being Taka’s little brother, of him being in the rock music scene himself, to the very back of my head. It was kind of weird the longer I thought about it, but because I still wanted to do this, however the fuck he’d managed to convince me, I tried not to think about it any further.

So … we couldn’t _fuck_ , but there were still plenty of other options left. Plus, there was always the possibility of a ‘next time,’ right? I had all the time in the world to fantasise about my thick cock inside of him next time, when we were more prepared. About him sobbing little moans and pleas with every thrust; begging for more. To be released. Deeper and faster. I almost chocked at the thought and finally broke the physical contact to get the futon out of the closet.

Hiroki watched me prepare it; his breathing shallow. When I sat down on it, he joined me in the blink of an eye. It didn’t take long for me to pull him into another kiss, which he approved of easily and obliged without a word. If anything, he melted into it. I could feel his body blur together with the rest of the background; I could feel him shiver and shake. My movements only grew stronger; more erratic. Pushing and pulling. Until he was lying right underneath me. I breathed his name against his lips. Kissed his jaw. Traced his cheekbones. Swallowed hard.

He was so God damn beautiful. And so God damn needy and complaint under my fingertips; his legs spread, pressing himself up against my body. I craved him. I so wished I could just fuck him after all. I could not wait. I pinned his arms back onto the floor and caught his silent sighs. Grinding down on him. Watching his eyes cloud over. His cheeks pink with lust, intoxication and hopefully embarrassment. I didn’t know why I wanted him embarrassed exactly. I just knew that I had to wipe that smugness off him fast.

“Want to have the next best thing?” I purred, shoving two fingers inside his mouth maybe a tad too ungently; all the while keeping his arms in check. But he understood, wasn’t surprised, it took him not a second to start licking them. I groaned as I pressed our foreheads together. I liked the sensation. I liked how I still felt as though I had the upper hand in all this. He’d oblige, and if he didn’t, I’d make him.

When I felt like it was enough, I replaced my fingers with my mouth and let them wander down his body instead. It was my first time with a man but I’d had anal sex before. I knew how he’d like it. And I was excited at the prospect of finding the perfect angle for him. Watching his face change. Experiencing in what way it was different for him than it was for a woman.

He arched his back when I was finally massaging against him, waiting for another response. Watching him wriggle and twist, trying to escape my firm grip. Watching him slowly losing it. I just needed this one reassurance. This one push. At this point I was hovering right above his lips. Not kissing him again. Waiting. My own cock was throbbing. My heart sank. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been _this_ excited.

“Please,” I heard him breathe, but his voice was so shattered and shaky that I’d almost missed it. His cheeks were still a fresh pink, as were his ears. He had his mouth open and his eyes closed shut. His teeth clenched. I could feel his cock pulsating.

God, was I really about to fulfil one of his old teenage fantasies? Had he been into me the whole time?

“Say that again for me,” I asked, licking his lips provokingly. Being the one to call the shots, to have the power over him, made me positively drunken with excitement. Women were often way too obedient in the first place. I’d never had the urge to exhaust established power dynamics. It was different with Hiroki. And this was only the beginning. I was looking forward to finally being inside of him; to fuck that smugness out of him. And somewhere in my head I wondered for a short second if I’d be able to cuddle him on my sofa, too.

“Please, Masato–”

Maybe he wanted to add something but I decided that it still wasn’t enough.

“I need a full sentence from you.”

He moaned under my weight; under the feeling of my fingers pushing further against him and yet still not pushing far enough. His cock looked so ridiculously full and desperate.

“I– I need your fingers inside of me, Masato. _Please_ –”

When I finally pushed my fingers in, I made sure to watch him closely; to see how his face went to pieces, how he lost control of his facial features completely. I watched him intently. Fascinated. He instinctively tightened around my fingers. I had yet to move them in and out but he already seemed to be in the highest of highs. When I let go of his arms, he didn’t look as though he knew what he should do with them all of a sudden. So he left them above his head on the floor. But sitting back, taking in the whole picture; all of him – was so arousing.

After I’d started slowly moving my fingers in and out experimentally, he relaxed and it gradually became easier and his moans increasingly louder. It felt like being in a total state of manic fixation. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Off his face; off his cock; off the place my fingers slipped in and out of him. I watched his chest heave and him squirm. Two fingers were all it took for him to go insane. He looked as though it would be so easy for him to cum just from my fingers alone. My cock twitched at the thought. But I really wanted to get some friction, too. I was just so turned on by the sight of him and his little sobs. By the feeling of my fingers surrounded by his tight warmth. By him trying to somehow hide his face behind his arms embarrassed. Even though he obviously loved being watched as I fingerfucked him. His wide open legs said more than a thousand words.

Jesus, I would have loved to replace my fingers with my cock. Seeing what kind of difference it made. How loud he could moan. How his face looked.

I swallowed hard. I never would have thought I’d do that to a man, let alone _him_. I never would have thought I’d find cock attractive. But seeing him so turned on turned _me_ on. Maybe my heart beat so fast because it was him and not some random other guy.

I leaned down again to stifle his moans with my mouth. Reached down between my own legs and began jerking myself off. It was kind of a pain in the ass, to be honest. God damn uncomfortable. But the smallest of touches felt heavenly. I shuddered with every stroke and already felt close to the edge. How could that even be a thing?

“I want to come all over you,” I pressed out; my voice shaking with lust and arousal. I couldn’t think of anything more perfect right now. Seeing him come. Him coming at the same time as me. Him coming from _me coming all over him_. Not needing to care about where to release or how to get rid of it afterwards. Just watching him love every second of it.

“Yes, I want you to,” he breathed equally shaky against my lips and I felt him finally reach for his own cock, too. Even though I would have loved trying to make him come just from my fingers, I shivered at the thought of him jerking off. Never thought about watching anyone like this. Suddenly I couldn’t think of anything hotter.

I leaned back in order for me to take him in fully; to watch him slowly get closer to the edge himself. He was pulling his cock slowly but firmly, in the same rhythm as my thrusts. I was matching him. Not thinking about it. My head was on autopilot. I moved my fingers faster. He moaned louder. I did not think about bothering other guests. My mouth stood slightly open. Breathing became harder. My own hand on my cock felt so good. I closed my eyes for a second. Sighed.

“You look so pretty like that,” I groaned. Maybe a tad too loud. His answer was a long moan. I could see that he was close. Felt it.

And even though it was way easier to both fingerfuck him and jerk myself off when I leaned back, I just couldn’t resist bending further down to kiss him. I liked how he just couldn’t cope anymore the moment I tried to steal his breath on top of everything that was happening. He yelped and gasped and it momentarily threw him off balance.

“I’m close,” he whined against my lips.

I skidded closer to him on my knees. Moved my fingers faster, tried to go even deeper. He cried. I pressed our foreheads together. Massaging myself with an even stronger grip. I felt hot all over and this familiar electric sensation spread through my whole body. I closed my eyes.

But when I finally came, I leant back again to watch it all. I couldn’t seem to control the volume of my moans. I felt deaf. I tried not to lose the rhythm of my fingers but I kind of failed. I watched as the first shot hit him on the neck and jaw. I exhaled. Then his chest and stomach. I groaned. When he was finally coming too, triggered by my own orgasm, his cum reached his clavicle. My own was dropping on his cock and hand by then.

Breathing. Coping. Trying to regain composure.

I smiled when I realised how much cum he had on his body. He smiled back as he grabbed my head with his clean hand and just held it. Pressed our foreheads together this time.

What a fucking mess.

When I realised that he’d probably have to sleep in this futon tonight, I carefully pulled out my two fingers; listened to him whine at the sensation. Then I tried to find him some tissues to get rid of most of the mess roughly first before it ran down his sides. Then I washed my hands.

“I don’t know if it’s me – but I think you should take a shower.”

“Oh, really?” he said in a mocking tone as he turned around to face me. But his face was still flushed; he gleamed almost. His smile so bright I wondered if I’d just accidentally drugged him instead.

I cleared my throat; abruptly feeling a bit more awkward than before. It was just the way he stood in front of me like that. The tattoos suited his body shape. All of a sudden he looked his usual bratty self again. All wide smiles, big laughs and provocative words.

I liked how his body looked, I only now realised. It honestly blew my mind how that preference could develop over two days when I hadn’t even felt a similar urge once in my life before.

“Yeah,” I whispered and closed the gap between us. Pulled him inside my arms. Felt the angles and edges and pressed my lips onto his. “I should probably go with you.”

*******

It was a ridiculously nice morning the next day we both had to check out. I’d slept in his room that night. Close to him. It just felt right somehow. It’d have been so weird to just piece out and leave him there. Now that his edges fit my own body like a glove.

I hadn’t had a weird dream this time. But as we exited the _ryokan_ , he turned around to face me with one of his bright smiles. When the sun hit his face just right, I could swear there were these sepia tones again, colouring the world around us a familiar but timeworn hue; his skin golden.

I returned his smile.


End file.
